“What makes you think something happened to me?”
He turned to her. “You see blood because you’ve seen blood. I was a cop—now a homicide detective. It makes sense that I’ve seen blood. But when did you?”
The kindness in his voice was almost her undoing. She could resist his obvious attraction to her and his charming flirtations, but true kindness was too much. It hit too close to something vulnerable inside her, something she kept walled off from the world.
She cast an eye toward the front window. “We should go. Djorji is waiting.”
“Who’s Djorji?”
“My driver.”
“Oh right.” He passed her on the way to the door, using his longer legs and much flatter shoes to his advantage. In a subtle way that made it seem unintentional, he palmed the handle of the umbrella drying in the umbrella stand before opening the door for her and popping it open above her head. He walked her to the car where Djorji stood ready to help her into the back seat.
“You’re pretty smooth with that umbrella,” she said to Nick. “You should save your chivalry for a real date.”
He sighed. “I thought I made it clear thiswasa real date.”
“I assumed that was an excuse, a cover for us investigating together.” She bent her head and brushed a hand down the front of her dress as if she were smoothing wrinkles that weren’t there.
His heavy hand landed in the curve of her back, and her eyes snapped to his. She allowed him to guide her against his chest.
“It’s a real date.”
His lips were close, and he was big. Big hands, big shoulders. She was a tall woman and she was a dragon, had grown up with dragons. This close, she could tell he was big enough to pass as one, and his nearness sent her inner beast into a frenzy. Muscles deep within her clenched and her skin turned hot.
“I mean, I want it to be a real date. Do you?”
She parted her lips, the heat of his body a sharp contrast to the cool rain pattering against the umbrella and sheeting down around them. His eyes were equally stormy. For a second she was lost in the moment. “I… Yes, I want that too.”
“Prove it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Prove this is a date.”
“How, exactly, am I supposed to prove that to you?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Kiss me.”
Now her dragon writhed, and heat bloomed between her legs. She could barely hold her wings in. Her nipples hardened against his chest. She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to taste him. She placed her hand against his cheek. Rough. Stubbled. Hard. “The kiss comes at the end of the date.” She giggled and spent far too long inspecting a dimple in his chin before climbing inside the vehicle.
“Where to, ma’am?” Djorji asked.
She glanced expectantly at Nick, who had folded the umbrella and slid in beside her. She had no idea where they were going.
“Wicked Divine,” he said. “Do you need the address?”
Djorji shook his head. He knew Wicked Divine. So did Rowan.
“What?” Nick asked.
Rowan gave him a sideways look. She was a dragon, an expert at keeping secrets. She’d remained completely impassive. So why was Nick studying her? “I didn’t say anything.”
He leaned forward in his seat. “There’s something I should share with you, Rowan. It’s probably not fair for me to keep this from you.”
“Oh? You have a secret?”
“I’m not just a detective. I have a certain background… a set of specialized skills. As it so happens, I’m an expert at reading people.”
